


How Sad A Flower

by chronicAngel



Series: Wisteria [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Miscarriage, POV Second Person, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 08:05:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10895181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicAngel/pseuds/chronicAngel
Summary: i heard that wisteria will blossom the more you beat it. that when you whisper love she cowers. that she shrivels in gentleness. collapses under kisses. is moved beneath the shock of cold.how sad a flower.-Wisteria, Jamie Oliveira





	How Sad A Flower

You know, deep down in your gut, that he loves you.

You know it when he comes home at four in the morning, smelling like a combination of his favorite too-sugary soda and shitty beer that almost has you dizzy just from smelling the concoction, which you get clear whiffs of as he stands inches from your face and screams at you for thoughts that are barely coherent and you're not sure he translates properly to words, before he shoves you against the wall and crushes his mouth against yours and ignores the tears streaming down your face in favor of doing what he wants because he knows you'll let him.

You know it when his friends come home with him, the lines of bruises on their arms and bloodshot eyes matching his so well. When he doesn't stop them as they both climb on top of you, but his cold grey eyes do stay on your face as if he is studying your expressions as you attempt to shove them away and cry out for him to help you even if you know that he won't and he knows that you know. When they finish and roll off of you and he climbs on top of you despite your shaking and sobbing.

You know it when you tell him that you're going to have a baby and he beats you until you feel something unfamiliar inside of you crunch and you can feel the blood run down your thighs. When he tells-- _reminds_ you that you have never wanted children.

You know it as you lay in bed for weeks with cramps that are ten times worse than any period cramp you've ever experienced with bruises covering your stomach and ribs and for the first time since you started dating in your junior year of high school, he apologizes. When he brings you breakfast from your favorite diner every morning and says he hopes you feel better soon, giving you a kiss on the forehead that makes your guts twist and running his fingers through your hair before he leaves for work and leaves you alone for the day. When no fresh bruises appear on his arm for the week you are stuck in bed, hardly able to move with the pain in your midriff, and it almost makes you forget that he is the one who did this to you in the first place; almost, or maybe it does.

You know it when he doesn't raise a hand to you for nearly two weeks after that, and for those two glorious weeks, you almost feel like half of a normal couple, like maybe he can be the one who completes you, like maybe you can stay with him without breaking. When he does hit you again, the illusion that you have been putting up that the two of you are happy for weeks does not merely falter but shatters completely, and you stay at Vriska's house for three days. When he begs you to come home, you manage to convince yourself all over again that he really does care, that you're just being ridiculous; you tell yourself all of the same things you told yourself the first time, and every time since then: it won't happen again, and tragically, you believe it.

You know it when he throws you outside, not with a backpack of your things or with his words, but by shoving you through the window of your living room and telling you not to bother coming back. When Karkat comes to pick you up and wordlessly drives you to the hospital, you are grateful he doesn't ask you what happened, simply helps you stand and says a quiet prayer under his breath that you imagine he thinks you can't hear about how thankful he is that you weren't killed or paralyzed by the glass and the fall; you suppose you're grateful, too.

You know it when you come home to find he hasn't changed the locks, only to find a moment later he is with another woman in your bed.

You know it when he apologizes for the second and last time in your relationship, but he doesn't apologize again as he starts to scream at you about how it is your fault, how he wouldn't have done this if you weren't such an idiot, such a bitch, such a stupid little slut, and before you know it everything that comes out of his mouth is an insult and you can't comprehend what you are doing as you storm out without looking back after he hits you because you have never reacted this way before.

You used to know he loved you, know it with every fiber of your being.

But now you aren't sure.


End file.
